


"Look at the sky, Grantaire, Isn't it beautiful?"

by FlounderTech



Category: Almost Human, Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: AU Almost Human, Crime, Future Fic, Grantaire Angst, Non-Binary Jehan, Police, Robot Enjolras, Robots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-07 01:04:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1879161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlounderTech/pseuds/FlounderTech
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a not-so-distant future, human cops and androids partner up to protect and serve.</p>
<p>Grantaire is an Ex-Cop, dragged back into the force to help take down Patron-Minette, whom targeted himself and his team on a previous case. Suffice to say, he doesn't really like the bots. </p>
<p>Feuilly, being his boss, has much the same issue as he does. He cared about those who passed because of the targeting, but can do no more about it. </p>
<p>But once Grantaire has re-joined the team, things don't quite... work out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Look at the sky, Grantaire, Isn't it beautiful?"

Grantaires eyes fluttered as he struggled, his mind flicking back and forth, trying his damned hardest to recall what he needed. The scene was there. Watching his partner die was there. The last explosion, there. And then the image of his last lover. A sweet boy, smart demeanour, he thought. Something that could have lasted. He was missing. Grantaire had no idea where he was nowadays. He was so close to seeing it now. The figures through the smoke... One of their faces... but not the leader...

"Fuck!" He surfaced, eyes shooting wide open and his hand clasped around the doctors throat, taking a moment to realize where he was again. Loosening his fist, he stared the doctor in the eye, blinking for a moment before pushing him back. "Put me back in."

"Grantaire, its too-"

"Put me back under, damnit. I was almost there."

"You're not long out a seventeen month coma. We should be waiting another year before you take this treatment."

"You put me back under, Joly, or I'll hand you in." 

"Oh, sure." The doctor shrugged lightly, head tilted a little as he looked the man over. "Put the black market doctor in jail. The only one who is willing to practice on you for a small cut. Not like it'll backfire on you." Joly sighed, offering a hand out for the dectective. "Here. We'll carry on next week. What did you see?"

"The same." Grantaire closed his eyes for a moment, that very same face cropping up behind his eyelids. "I watched Bossuet go. One of those Javert bot things push on... Tried to get Bossuet out and kaboom." He ran a hand through his hair, stepping out from the machine that let him delve back into his mind and memory, to pull out who did this to him. 

"So no change?"

"No." The doctor scribbled something down on his note pad and sighed, looking through his notes.

"You know, sometimes this side of cognitive therapy doesn't always work. This may be all we can get." Grantaire closed his eyes for a moment, as if letting that sink in, before he found himself speak up a little.

"There was something else." He shrugged his coat on as the doctor let a small hum. "An image. A face."

"Who's face?" 

"An old flames."

 

  *   *   *

 

_"Look at the sky, Grantaire. Isn’t it… beautiful?”_

The man on the screen was exactly as he had recalled. Dark hair catching the sunlight as it rained down on him, the sun setting behind one of the tallest buildings in Paris.

_“Its almost perfect. Its just missing your presence. What I wouldn’t give to have you out here with me. But I’ll be home soon, I promise.”_ The mans smile was as sweet as he remembered as well, and Grantaire watched as he replaced the hat on his head, winking into the camera.

_“And I’m sure we’ll outshine the sunsets like this.”_ He waved his hand through the holograph, sighing and shaking his head as he nursed yet another glass, downing it along the same time as the phone started to buzz on the table once more. Sighing, he waved it up again, looking up to the screen that lifted with a look of discontent.

“’Taire. You coming in today?”

“Not this time, Feuilly?”

“You said-“

“Not this time.” Grantaires voice grew that little bit harsher and he watched as Feuilly shook his head. 

“Grantaire, we need you on this one. I know that its going to be hard, and I know what you’ve gone through, but you are needed.”

“I’m not ready.”

“When will you be?” Grantaire paused, looking back down to the glass and sighed, shaking his head. “That’s what I thought. ‘Taire, I know that this is hard. But you’re not the only one who lost people in that mission. That, and you’re the only person who wants to find them more than I do.”

“So why today?” He looked back up to the ginger haired man on the screen, the man in charge of his division.

“We think we have a lead on them.”

“On Patron Minette?

“On Patron Minette.” The confirmation had Grantaire rising.

“When?”

“How soon can you get here?” Grantaire simply waved the man off, picking up the phone and winced, looking down at his leg for a moment as the beeping started up.

_“Synchronisation error.”_  The man grunted and hit the leg at the side, shaking his head a little.

“Shut it.” He scowled, moving to grab his keys and his jacket, shrugging it back on and went to drive into work for the first time in three years. 

 

 *     *      *

 

"You know what they said about him? "Not safe to go back to work. Ever." I don't like it."

"How long d'ya think he'll last?"

"He won't see the end of this case."

It wasn't surprising that there was a small group doubting Grantaires... ability to work. He had been told much the same himself. He believed much the same himself. But too many good men died that day, and he was the only survivor of it. He grunted a greeting to various members, only gracing Jehan and Feuilly with a proper version of it. Jehan gave him a smile and they patted his shoulder lightly.

"Good t'see you back on the force, Grantaire."

"I'd say its good. But we both know thats bullshit." Jehan laughed, the sound soft, musical laugh that they kept about them. And he watched as they left the room, leaving himself and his boss in a room together.

"Right. What we got?"

"Dead man, same MO as that which you were investigating, but with a difference."

"Oh?"

"Cyclone Red was taken, and a sexbot was left."

"Sexbot was left... What condition?"

"Skinless." Grantaires brow furrowed and he nodded, sighing as he observed the video given, simply nodding a single time.

"Where?"

"The hotel up on fifth." Grantaire nodded, taking off before. Well. Infront of him was one of the bots that looked like all the others.

"Detective. I am J-24601. I have been assigned to you as the mandatory-" Grantaire turned right around into the office once more. 

"Feuilly, What the-"

"Detective, I must insist we-"

"Will you shut the fuck up and go outside."

"But I must insist"

"Go. Outside." The bot turned and walked out fluidly, and Grantaire turned back to his boss. "I am not working with one of those."

"You must." Feuilly stated. "Its law. Every officer must-"

"Ride with a synthetic partner. I know the law. But I am not doing it."

"Then you are not an officer."

"Fine." With a scowl on his face, Grantaire followed on. "Come." His tone was one of a man talking to his dog. He had no other choice, not really.

 

   *     *     *

 

To say that the car journey there was tense was a serious understatement. The mandatory bot that had been assigned to him just _wouldn't. Shut. Up._

"Detective Grantaire, my systems seem to suggest that you were in the black market side of chinatown last night. I must ask what you were doing there."  
"What. Can a man not go get himself a decent drink and some damned noodles?" The J-Bot stopped for a moment, blinking as it ran through its files, shaking its head.   
“Records show that there were no traces of either alcohol, nor any eastern style food on your breath, or having been in your mouth at all. Sir, I must ask again. What were you doing on that side of the city?”

Grantaire grunted lightly, shaking his head and sped up the car, starting to ignore the damned robot.   
“Sir, I must ask again. Wha-“ Without a moments notice, Grantaire had leant over to the passenger door, opened it and pushed the bot out of the car, smirking a little as it crashed against the pavement and ended up crushed by a truck headed the other way. Closing the door, he sat up, keeping the damned car straight and carried on driving, nodding to himself.   
“Serves the bastard right for not shutting the fuck up.” He sighed, relaxing his shoulders and drove on, completely ignoring the fact that he did technically just break the law. Ah, Feuilly wouldn’t do anything about it. He was needed on this case.

And in that moment, he understood just how much of a truly cocky bastard he truly was.


End file.
